


It's a Bloodsport

by puppyfacedbrokenboys



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppyfacedbrokenboys/pseuds/puppyfacedbrokenboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Mason’s first meeting isn’t the best, but it made them who they are today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Bloodsport

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Imagine your OTP in middle school. One is a very depressed kid, the other is a superstar jock. They get to talking somehow (you pick) and it turns out the outgoing one had tried to commit suicide the week before. How they both react is up to you.

They met at school, he remembers.

It was a dreary day, with the wind whipping past him in harsh waves. He hunched down in his leather jacket that his new stepfather had bought him to try to break the ice, and adjusted the shoulder strap on his Lacrosse bag. Fingers tapped on the strap as Liam walked quickly, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed him; nervous and anxious to get home.

He had done something big, something terrible. His stomach twisted and he could taste bile in his throat. He was not looking where he was going and tripped, falling face first into the ground. He scrambled to get up, but as his luck would have it, his bag had busted open and the contents had fallen out.

As he sighed in frustration, and leaned over to pick it up, he heard a voice from beside him, causing him to jump.

“I know I'm not exactly on your radar, but could you watch where you're going?” The boy was trying so hard to sound aggressive, but it fell flat. The voice was too soft, too tight—and just one look at the boy's face told Liam he'd been crying.

“Sorry, I'm just...” Liam trailed off, looking away and reaching for a wayward pen in the grass.

“Save it. I don't want to hear it,” the boy cut him off.

“Okay,” Liam replied softly, zipping up his bag and when he looked back at the boy, he was staring intently at his Lacrosse stick. More like trying to set it on fire with his eyes. Liam squinted at him, then asked, “Not a fan?”

“Not when the team's full of a bunch of elitist, homophobic dickwads,” the boy growled, and there was a heat about him now that filled him up and made him look more alive.

Liam's seen him around; had him in a few of his classes. His name was Mason. Intelligent kid, but he walked around school like a ghost, ready to float away at any moment. His dark skin always looked a shade too pale, and he almost never smiled. Liam had noticed he wore his school issued hoodie all the time, always keeping it over his arms.

He looked like Liam felt.

“We're not all like that,” Liam defended. But the kid had a point. Liam walked around like he was the best and everyone else was beneath him because it was expected of him. No matter how guilty it made him feel. But he had to. He had to act like he was the best, because deep down he knew he was the worst. He couldn't let the team know that, though.

Mason gave a harsh scoff. “Yeah, right. I forgot, you're one of them.” He gave Liam a look then, and Liam felt as if he were being examined from the inside out. It made him squirm. “At least... you try terribly to be.”

His eyes dropped to Liam's hands, pointedly staring at his red and angry ripped up knuckles. Liam quickly hid them in his coat pockets. “Better to be an asshole at the top than invisible and bitter.”

“Yeah, because we're just so beneath you. You guys get to walk around with all the glory, the world at your feet because your daddies and mommies pay the school to keep your dumbasses here to give you a free ride, where us invisible people have to work our asses off to be here, and for what? To get ridiculed and shitted on, beat down because I'm darker than they are? That I like guys? That I somehow don't belong here because my family can't afford it? Sounds fucked up to me.”

Liam was floored for a moment, but his anger was starting to flare. He could feel it clouding the edges of his vision as his blood raced. On top of what he did and the residual swirl of nerves, fear, anxiety, he was going to explode if he wasn't careful. He needed out.

Looking back at what happened next, Liam couldn't reason why he said what he did. He was a private person, and Mason had been sneering at him. But there was just something about Mason – an envy that he would wear his emotions on his sleeve while Liam couldn't; a need for someone to understand him and Mason just happened to trigger it. Liam didn't know, nor care. He just stopped thinking and let go.

“Oh, so just because I'm good at Lacrosse and happen to have rich parents, I just live this happy life? Here's a reality check for you. I'm good a Lacrosse because that's the only thing I'm good at. Sue me. I can't be myself because if I was, everyone would just see this kid with IED and the true monster that I am. And my parents? They couldn't give two shits about me. They look at me like I'm a monster. My dad left, and my mom married some guy to keep her busy.” Liam was seething with rage, and his fingernails raked his arms in an attempt to pull up his sleeves to reveal angry scars. He shoved them in Mason's face. “They didn't even come see me when I was in the hospital. You may think you hate me, but no one hates me more than _I hate myself_.”

Mason was speechless, and Liam could see the change in his expression and it made him sick. He took two heaving breaths and then he was jumping up and running.

What the hell came over him?

He was angry, embarrassed. Just what he needed on top of the shit he had done to his coach's car. He only stopped running when he tripped over a tree root, falling hard to the ground. His flush face pressed hard into the concrete, and his hand snaked out to pound on the ground. He felt a rush as his skin ripped open, the burn welcoming. And he pounded and pounded until a body landed on him, grabbed his arm and pulled up.

Liam was manhandled onto his back. When his eyes snapped up he saw Mason straddling his chest, holding his arms.

“Stop,” the boy commanded, voice frantic and concern.

Liam wondered why the fuck he cared so much. He tried to buck him off, to struggle away, but the boy tucked his knees in tighter and leaned forward, and Liam found it hard to breathe. “Get off,” Liam demanded.

“Just stop and breathe,” Mason said, calmer this time as the hand on Liam's arms tightened its grip. “I'm not letting go until you breathe, asshole.”

After a few more bucks with Mason only tightening his grip, Liam did as he was told. He started to breathe, and Mason let off a little bit each time until Liam was sitting up and breathing steadily. His hands had stopped shaking, his head had stopped pounding, and his vision was clear.

“Does that happen a lot?” Mason asked quietly, not looking at him. He was sitting next to him, arms wrapped around his knees.

“Yeah,” Liam answered just at quiet. There was a weight of tranquility around them, and as Liam's eyes flickered around he found they were completely alone at the edge of a field. It felt nice.

“I'm sorry.” It may have been simple, but it carried a big weight.

“Me too,” Liam replied.

And they sat there, silently, for a long time. The temperature had dropped a few degrees and the sun was sinking in the sky. It was Liam's phone ringing in his pocket that ripped them from their little bubble of whatever this was and back to reality.

They went their separate ways, but from that day on they had a connection.

Over the next few weeks, they got closer and closer, and were damn near inseparable. Mason was there to calm Liam down when he got worked up; Liam was there to defend Mason if anyone started trouble.

Nothing could keep them apart, not even Liam gotten expelled and transferring schools for destroying his coach's car and sent to another middle school. As fate would have it, they'd reunite in high school where their troubles seemed a distant memory. Sure, Liam still had anger problems and Mason still had bouts of depression, but together they were stronger and happier.

They were a team, and nothing could break them.

And no matter how fucked up his life gets, Liam can look back at their first meeting and smile.

 


End file.
